


Sweet Surprise

by tinyarmedtrex



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Customer/ shop owner AU, Fluff, M/M, Mike is a sweet customer, Richie is a loving if useless best friend, Secret Santa, Stan owns a chocolate shop, Stanlon - Freeform, and Eddie - Freeform, and a handyman, meet cute, wellllll, you'll see - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21873985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyarmedtrex/pseuds/tinyarmedtrex
Summary: “Thank you. I thought I was going to drown.” Stan said as the man emerged from under the sink. Stan had to do a double take. The man was gorgeous, deep, black skin with an easy smile and a flannel shirt that hugged his chest and arms. He looked like he stepped out of a renaissance painting.Stan glanced down at himself. He looked like a drowned rat.The universe clearly hated him.“I just turned off the water.” The man said, pointing to a valve under the sink that Stan never would have noticed in a million years.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon & Stanley Uris, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Comments: 24
Kudos: 167





	Sweet Surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xander_The_Undead](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xander_The_Undead/gifts).



“No! Shit! No- Aghh!” Stan screamed as water exploded over him. He tried to protect himself from the stream, throwing his hands up in a feeble attempt at a shield. 

It didn’t matter. He still ended up drenched. The water continued its attack, not caring about Stan or his floor.

“Fuck,” He mutterered, looking at the pipe. He didn’t know the first thing about plumbing besides that it should not be doing that. 

“Hello?” A voice called from the front of his store and he groaned inwardly. Of course, this would be when a customer walked in. 

“Just a minute.” He called, looking for something to cover up the water. Finally, he spotted a towel but to grab it and keep the water at bay, he needed to stretch his leg out, trying to reach it with his foot while leaving his hands over the broken faucet.

“Stupid towel.” He grumbled, accidentally pushing it further away. “Get over here.” 

“Looks like you need a hand.”

Stan turned, about to object, but as he did, he accidentally moved his hands and ended up with a fresh spray of water in his face. 

“Damnit!” He had closed his eyes but heard someone chuckle. As he wiped his eyes with his damp sleeve, he saw that someone was under his sink then the stream of water slowed and stopped. 

“Thank you. I thought I was going to drown.” Stan said as the man emerged from under the sink. Stan had to do a double take. The man was gorgeous, deep, black skin with an easy smile and a flannel shirt that hugged his chest and arms. He looked like he stepped out of a renaissance painting. 

Stan glanced down at himself. He looked like a drowned rat.

The universe clearly hated him. 

“I just turned off the water.” The man said, pointing to a valve under the sink that Stan never would have noticed in a million years.

“Well,” Stan turned, finally grabbing the towel and wiping off his face and hair. “It was more than I could have done. I’ve been asking the landlord to fix the sink for weeks.” He threw the towel down, glaring at his faulty sink. 

“Tell him about the vicious water attack, he’d be liable for it.” The guy grinned, making it clear it was a joke. Then he coughed, stepping in and looking at Stan. “You missed some drops.” He explained, grabbing the towel and dabbing Stan’s face. Stan felt himself go beet red. The man stayed close, smiling at him. It was utterly charming, it made Stan want to smile back.

Or maybe sit on his face. He wasn’t picky. 

Then he remembered that the man wasn’t here for either of those things. 

“Did you have an order?” Stan asked. He owned a specialty chocolate shop which was known for his inventive new flavors and the creative designs they came in.He loved it, it was creative but also precise. Everything needed to be planned and executed meticulously in order to get the perfect bite. 

His storefront wasn’t very big, so usually people would order ahead of time and then swing by to pick them up. He frowned, not remembering any orders. 

“No, I needed something for a gift and I heard you were the best.” There was that grin again. It reminded Stan of apple picking on a perfect fall day. The man could have stepped out of a catalog.

“In that case,” Stan straightened his shirt, trying to be professional despite his attraction and overall dampness. “Lets go up front and you can tell me more about the giftee.”

“After you.” He said, stepping aside. 

They went to the front and the man stepped to the other side of the glass while Stan stayed behind it. It seemed almost silly at this point but Stan appreciated that the man did it without asking. 

“Do you know what flavors they like?” Stan asked, ignoring the squelch of his shoes. 

He grimaced and shook his head. “I know they like dark chocolate.”

Stan nodded. “Well you’re in the right spot. How about if you give me a budget and I’ll put something together?”

“That sounds great.” The guy sounded relieved and Stan put on gloves and started picking some customer favorites, explaining what they were as he placed them in a small box. The man asked a few polite questions but mostly watched Stan work. 

“And this one is my personal favorite.” Stan held up one that looked like a robin’s egg. “The inside is dark chocolate and cayenne pepper with a little surprise crunch.” 

“Throw one of those in there for me.” The guy said. “That sounds great.” 

Stan dropped it into a bag, handing it over. “On the house, you did save me from drowning.” 

“I’m sure you could have saved yourself.” He replied, fishing the candy out. Stan paused from wrapping up the box with the other chocolates, wanting to know what he thought. 

He popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. Then he nodded, swallowed. “I don’t know much about chocolate but I love this. The flavors are amazing. I was definitely sent to the right place.”

Stan felt a dumb grin spread across his face. He wouldn’t normally call himself smitten- or ever, really- but this guy had that effect on him. He finally reminded himself to ring him up, only to be slightly disappointed when he paid with cash. He’d never get to know the mystery man’s name. Not that it mattered but it made imagining their embroidered towels that much harder. 

“Thank you for coming in.” Stan said, waving as the man left.

“I’m glad I did.” He said, giving Stan that perfect smile one final time.

Once he was gone, Stan slumped against his counter, overthinking every word that he’d said until the bell over his door rang again. 

“Willy Stan-ka!” His best friend and greatest annoyance, Richie, said as he flowed in, grinning at him. His smile dimmed as he looked Stan over. “Why are you wet? Did you explore a new kink without me?”

In his self reflection, he’d forgotten that he was still wearing his wet clothes. And that his sink was still broken. 

“Not exactly. Can you watch the counter? I need to change.” 

“Sure thing,” Richie said, sliding under the divide. “But only in exchange for a story about what happened. Anything that makes you looks so rumpled has to be interesting.

Stan waved him off, going to change. He spent the rest of the day trying not to dwell on the fact that he hadn’t even gotten the man’s name. Richie nicknamed him Adonis and kept teasing Stan about it all day. 

“Why do I ever tell you anything?” Stan asked the following day as they both stared down the sink. They had looked up how to fix it online and had watched several videos. Neither of those things boosted Stan’s confidence about their ability to fix it. 

“Because I am your best friend and you love me.” Richie said, throwing an arm around him. 

“Debatable.” Stan replied. Then he sighed. “We know nothing about fixing a sink. What are we going to do?”

“I can probably figure out a wrench from a hammer.” Richie said, making a face. “But that’s as far as I go. We’re not handy gays, Stan.” 

Stan nodded, wondering how much hiring someone would cost. The store ran on a thin margin and he didn’t want to have to pay someone but he also needed a sink. The landlord still wasn’t returning his calls and Stan didn’t want to wait for him any longer. As he debated what to do, the front bell rang. 

“I’ve got it.” Richie loped off. A second later, Stan heard a low whistle. “Hey there, what can I get you? A turtle? A truffle? Me?”

“Richie can you please-” Stan stepped out, ready to chide his friend but he stopped. The man from yesterday was standing in front of him. “You came back.”

The guy nodded. “My coworkers demanded it. Your chocolates were all gone within ten minutes. They were delicious.”

“They aren’t the only thing.” Richie said, his eyes dancing from one of them to the other.

“Shut up.” Stan hissed. He turned to the man and smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. We have a little less today since the sink is broken, I couldn’t make some things- but we still have many of the favorites.”

The man frowned and for a second Stan thought he was going to leave. But then he said, “Well that’s bullshit. Let me look at it.”

Stan shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that. I - I don’t even know your name.”

“It’s Mike.” He said, extending a hand over the glass. 

“Stan.” He clasped Mike’s hand, feeling how warm it was. 

“Let me help, I can’t stand the thought of you not being able to make your creations.”

Stan hesitated then glanced at Richie who whispered loudly in his ear, “If the gorgeous man wants to help you fix your plumbing you say yes Stan.”

Stan flushed and glared at him but nodded. “Okay, thank you. I can’t pay you very much, though.” 

“No need.” Mike lifted the barrier and crossed over. “I just need some tools and maybe a few of those eggs.”

Stan nodded again, feeling relieved as he grabbed the unused tool box from the closet and gave it to Mike. As Mike went under the sink, both Richie and Stan stared at him.

“Damn Stan, you have better taste than I gave you credit for.” Richie mumbled, openly staring at Mike’s ass.

“Shut up.” Stan muttered, forcing himself to look somewhere else. “Don’t you have a radio audience to go annoy?” 

“Trying to get some alone time with him. I see how it is.” Richie winked at him and Stan glared. “Okay okay, I’ll talk to you later.”

Richie left and Stan made himself busy, doing everything he could without water. Eventually, Mike stood up and called him over. “Let’s give this a shot.” He said, wiping his hands on a rag. “Will you do the honors?”

Stan pulled on the faucet, nearly jumping for joy when water came out. “You’re a miracle worker!” He said, staring up at Mike. “I owe you!” 

Mike chuckled. “Hardly but I’m glad I could help.” 

“Please, pick out whatever you want. On the house.” Part of Stan foolish hoped that Mike would pick him but he didn’t, instead choosing a small array of chocolates before he left.

“Bye, and thank you again!” Stan called. 

“I’m sure I’ll be back soon.” The words, along with that easy smile, made Stan melt like his chocolates on a hot day. He was growing increasingly infatuated with the other man, which was ridiculous. They’d only talked twice but Stan couldn’t get Mike out of his mind. 

Two days later Stan was in the back, swearing at his faulty fridge. It was on the fritz, leaving all of his chocolate at the wrong temperature. His landlord was again dodging his calls and Stan wanted to rip his hair out. 

“Does anything in your store work?” He heard from behind him. Stan pulled his head out the fridge, swearing as he knocked it against a shelf.

“Oh!” Mike was next to him before Stan could even collect himself, his hand on Stan’s temple. “Are you okay?” 

The response died in Stan’s throat as he stared at Mike. The man was so close to him, his other hand curled on Stan’s waist like he was keeping him upright. And maybe he was, Stan wasn’t sure he could stay standing without him. Up close, Mike smelled like body spray and oranges. 

“Stan?” He asked again, his eyes full of concern. 

“I’m good. Fine. Alive. Thriving.” Stan said, reluctantly stepping out of Mike’s hold. “My fridge is 64 degrees but other than that, I’m fantastic.” 

“I’ll take a look.” Mike said, already moving to the back. “Don’t bother objecting, I saw you try to duct tape your stove handle back on the other day.” 

Stan opened then closed his mouth, fighting back a grin. “Did you come here just to check on the state of my equipment?” 

Mike’s head popped out from behind the fridge. “Maybe. Or maybe you’ve got everyone I work with addicted to those chocolates.” 

“If you can fix that, you can have free ones for the whole office.” 

“How do you ever make money?” Mike asked, disappearing again. 

“Most of my customers aren’t as useful as you.” 

Mike laughed, deep and full. The sound of it made Stan’s heart flutter. Ten minutes later, he retreated from the space, washing his hands. “You need a new fan. I can install it tomorrow. I’ll probably bring someone to help.”

“A partner?” Stan asked cautiously. It wasn’t any of his business and he knew that but he needed to ask. 

Mike looked at him, drying his hands. “A friend. If that’s okay.”

Stan nodded, pulling out his wallet to give Mike some cash but Mike’s hand covered his, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-” Stan looked from Mike’s hand, resting comfortably over his, to his face, open and earnest. 

“Think of it as an investment in a business I’m rapidly becoming addicted to.”

Stan frowned. He didn’t like getting things for free or owing people. “You’ve got to let me repay you somehow.”

Mike smirked, “I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

Stan was sure that Mike was going to ask him out but then Richie stumbled into the backroom and both pulled back.

“Whoops-” Richie wiggled his finger from Stan to Mike. “Am I interrupting something?”

Stan glared and Mike just chuckled. 

“He’s fixing the fridge.” Stan said.

“He’s fixing sumthin’.” Richie replied, pulling off his coat. 

“On that note- I should go. I’ll be back tomorrow.” Mike said, waving to both of them.

“So are you two banging yet? Are there ass prints in the chocolate?” Richie asked, throwing open the fridge. 

“No Richie, not everyone sleeps with people they’ve known for only a few days.”

“What a shame.” 

Stan shook his head. He loved his friend but the two of them couldn’t be more different. 

Mike came back the next day, wearing flannel and a tool belt. It was not a look Stan had been attracted to before but on Mike it worked. Stan was pretty sure than anything worked on Mike. He could probably pull off a terry cloth robe. 

“This is Eddie. Eddie, Stan.”

The two shook hands and Stan felt Eddie give him the once over. “Nice to finally meet you. I’ve heard a lot.” Eddie said, glancing back at Mike. For the first time, he saw a faint blush on Mike’s cheeks and he wondered what exactly Mike had been saying about him. 

“Thanks for saving my fridge.” Stan said, trying to ignore the silent communication that passed between them. 

“We haven’t saved it yet.” Mike said, pulling a motor out of a bag. “Give us an hour and we can talk.” 

Stan nodded then pointed to the table that was further from the fridge. “I need this one.” He had a big order and a request for a new flavor. He’d been putting it off but he couldn’t any longer. 

“Works for us.” Mike said, the two getting to work. They kept up a constant conversation, talking about their lives and the project. Stan chimed in a few times but mostly he was focused on the chocolate.

Until Richie came in. “Staniel! We need to chat. I’ve got this weird rash on my-” Richie stopped as he came in, seeing Mike and Eddie working on the fridge. “You didn’t tell me there was a fucking angel here!” 

“You’ve met Mike.” Stan muttered, trying another flavor.

“I don’t mean him.” Richie walked over to Eddie, who had his arms crossed and was looking at Richie. “Hello gorgeous.”

“Eddie.”

“Richie.” Richie stuck a hand out and Eddie shook it. As he did, Richie raised it to his mouth, brushing his lips over it. Stan was shocked to see a blush appear on Eddie’s cheeks, even as he yanked his hand back.

“What the hell?” Eddie looked back to Mike but the man was behind the fridge. “Are you for real?”

“Oh baby, I’m always real.” Richie said, winking at Eddie. “Real Richie they call me. Realest Richie around.” 

“Hey Richie, tone it down a little. They’re here to fix the fridge, not for you to annoy.” Stan said.

“Let me help. I’m great with my hands.” Richie offered. Stan couldn’t hold back a snort and Richie flicked him off.

Eddie, on the other hand, seemed amused by all this. “Sure, you can hand me tools.”

“Sounds fucking promising.” Richie agreed. It became clear very quickly that Richie didn’t know the name of any of the tools but rather than tell him to fuck off Eddie told him what each one looked like. Within an hour, Richie was whispering things into Eddie’s ear, making the other man giggle. Stan was pissed- first because Richie was supposed to be there to help him and second that it was so easy for him. He had already asked Eddie out on first date (and second and third) by the time they were putting away the tools. He wished he was that at ease with Mike.

“And I think-” Mike plugged the fridge back in and a familiar whirring filled the room. “We did it!” 

“Thank you!” Stan couldn’t believe it. He had been putting away money for a new fridge for months, knowing it would be a huge expense. But Mike had fixed it in an afternoon.

“Fucking hot.” Richie said, winking at Eddie. “Cute and handy.”

“Fuck off.” Eddie muttered. But he didn’t move as Richie put an arm around him, turning them both towards Stan. “We’re gonna go get drinks to celebrate a job well done. Don’t wait up.” With that, they were walking to the door. 

“You were supposed to-” But they were already gone. “Fuckers.” Stan muttered. He looked up and saw that Mike was still there.

“Problem?” 

“Richie was supposed to help me taste test.” Stan said, sighing loudly. “But clearly your friend was more interesting.”

Mike nodded. “I’ve never seen Eddie like someone so quickly. Normally he’s a little… prickly.” Mike moved to the table, standing across from him. “I can help, if you want? I don’t have a chocolate palate or anything but I promise not to disappear.” 

“Really?” Stan asked and Mike nodded. “I’d love that. Here,” He gestured to the table. “I’ve got three flavors but I’m not sure I like any of them.”

Mike nodded, lifting the first one and eating half as Stan described it. “Blueberry and cardamom with dark chocolate.”

Mike chewed thoughtfully and Stan watched, waiting for the verdict.

“It’s okay.” He said, swallowing. “Not as good as your robin egg.”

Stan smiled. “Nothing is.” He gestured to the middle chocolate. This one was in the shape of a flower. “The second one is lavender and rosemary.”

Again Mike took a careful bite. “Let the flavors coat your tongue,” Stan advised.

After a minute, Mike said, “I like that less.”

He frowned. A lot was riding on this last one. It was shaped like a seashell. “This one is bourbon and caramel.”

“Promising.” Mike ate half again, humming appreciatively as he bit into it. 

“Well?” Stan asked immediately. 

“If I may?” Mike reached for his kosher salt and Stan nodded, watching him pour a few pieces onto a plate and then dip the chocolate in it. Then he raised it to Stan’s lips. “Try it now.” 

Stan raised an eyebrow, silently asking if Mike was really feeding him. Mike’s answer was to move the chocolate closer, letting Stan decide. He leaned in, opening his mouth as Mike’s finger brushed his lips, the chocolate landing on his tongue. He closed his eyes as he let it melt on his tongue. Mike was right, the salt made it better.

“How did you know?” Stan asked, opening his eyes. 

Mike shrugged. “I accidentally poured salt on a caramel milkshake once and I liked it.”

Stan laughed, a little relieved that Mike wasn’t some chocolate savant. “Do you want to try some other things I’m working on?” Mike nodded and Stan went to the shelves pulling down some jars. “I’m trying to make flavored chocolate sauces. White chocolate with Blueberry, dark chocolate and raspberry.” He popped one in the microwave for a few seconds. “I’m thinking they can go on ice cream, baked goods. Something more long term than a truffle.” 

“Innovative.” Mike said, watching Stan carefully swirl a piece of shortbread into the jar. Having Mike’s full attention on him was a lot but Stan wasn’t going to back down now. He tapped the cookie on the side of the jar and then lifted it to Mike’s mouth. The man parted his lips, keeping his eyes on Stan the whole time. 

Stan let his fingers brush Mike’s lips, thinking about the strange intricacies of the moment. That he trusted Mike enough to be fed by him but still couldn’t ask him out, still didn’t dare openly admit his feelings. Stan was better at actions than words. Telling Mike how he felt scared the shit out of him. Kissing him- Stan found that his eyes fell to those full lips- felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Both had moved closer. Mike’s arm was on the table and Stan’s hip rested next to it, the two not quite touching but near enough that Stan could feel his body heat.

“What do you think?” He asked. 

“You’ve got a real knack for this.” Mike lifted his hand, brushing a thumb against the outside of Stan’s mouth and then sucking it clean. “You had some chocolate there.” Mike explained. 

As Stan debated the merits of asking Mike to kiss him vs. just pushing him down on the table, the bell rang.

“Fuck,” He swore quietly. He glanced to the main room then back at Mike, who was smiling at him.

“Go, I can wait.” 

Stan hurried up, helping a customer who insisted on hearing the potential nut allergies in each truffle. In the end, he ordered two dozen so it was worth it but Stan spent nearly half an hour with him. 

So he wasn’t really surprised when he found that Mike had left. There was a note on the table, explaining that he had to go to work and Stan resisted the strong urge to bang his head against it. 

The following day, he couldn't stop himself from looking up eagerly every time the bell rang. But it was never Mike. It was an old lady who wanted dog friendly chocolate. Or a stoned college kid who lost their way. A middle aged woman who needed an apology gift for her wife. All of them interesting but none of them Mike.

Then Eddie slipped through the door. Stan instantly noticed that his neck was decorated with hickeys. Eddie saw him looking and tried to cover them up with his collar.

“Your friend is like an octopus.” Eddie said, walking up to the counter. 

He nodded. “He’s not great with decorum. He’s also not here.” Stan said, assuming that Eddie was looking for Richie.

“I know. He’s sleeping in my apartment.” The sides of Eddie’s lips quirked up and Stan felt the familiar pange of jealousy jolt through him. How was it so easy for them? Maybe he and Mike weren’t meant to be. 

“I had to go come here though. Mike asked me to give you this.” Eddie pulled out a single sunflower and a note, handing them to Stan. 

He frowned, taking the note and opening it. 

_ ‘If you’re free, I’d love for you to come to the library at 6pm tonight.  _

_ -Mike’  _

Stan looked up at Eddie. “What is this?”

“I think you know.” Eddie smiled then checked his watch. “I’ve got to go, I told Richie I’d grab us some lunch. He says hi, by the way.”

“I’m sure that’s not what he said.” Stan replied, playing with the paper in his fingers. 

Eddie laughed. “No, he said that you need to go get that fine ass before he invites him into our bed but I thought hi was more appropriate.” 

He nodded. “That sounds more like Richie.” Eddie nodded, turning to leave but Stan called out to him. “Eddie?”

He stopped and turned.

“Mike. He’s - a good guy, right?” Stan was sick of being hurt, of falling for the wrong guy. 

“He’s the best. If you don’t show up tonight, Richie and I might.” 

Stan cracked a smile. “Okay. Thanks.”

“See you around, Stan.”

He left and Stan tried to focus on filling orders. It wasn’t interesting work and his mind kept wandering to tonight. He wished he had time to run home and change but he was open until 5:30 and it was too much of a risk to close early.

Finally, he was locking the front door and going to his car. Driving to the library, part of him thought about turning around. This felt strange and part of him was convinced it was a joke, a trap. He knew it was just his anxiety talking, the voice inside his head telling him that there was no way Mike liked him, and he ignored it, instead pulling up to the library. 

He walked up, carrying a small tray of chocolates in his hand and frowned. The place was dark, Stan didn’t see any lights on. The fear that this was a joke grew in him.

When he got to the front door, he found that it was unlocked and walked in, hoping the night didn’t end with him explaining to a cop why he was breaking into a library. 

“Hello?” He called out, stopping at the circulation desk. He still didn’t see anyone or any lights.

“Stan!” The voice sounded far away and then he heard someone walking towards him. A minute later, Mike emerged, wearing a sweater vest. “You’re early, I should have guessed.” He said as he stopped in front of Stan, that now familiar charming smile on his face.

“I brought chocolates.” Stan replied dumbly. 

“I figured you would. I thought about telling you not to bring anything but it seemed like a useless endeavor.” 

Stan nodded tensely and the smile fell off Mike’s face. “Do you want to be here? Did I misread this?”

“No!” Stan shook his head. “I’m- confused I guess. Why didn’t you just ask me out at the shop?”

“I wanted to, since that first day, but we kept getting interrupted.” Mike gestured around. “Maybe I should have asked you out in person but I- didn’t. You’re a little intimidating, Stan. I thought that this would be easier. No one else is here. It’s just us.”

The words sent a thrill through Stan, knowing he was finally alone with Mike. “Good. I’m glad you sent the note- and the flower.” 

“They’re my favorite.” 

“For the record,” Stan said, stepping closer. “I would have said yes if you had asked me out in person.” 

The smile appeared back on Mike’s lips. “Good to know.” They stood awkwardly for a second before Mike spoke again. “This isn’t the date, by the way. I have plans beyond the entryway.” He extended a hand and Stan slipped his own in, loving how his hand fit in Mike’s. 

Together, they weaved through the stacks and to the children’s section. There, a few lights were on and Stan saw a picnic dinner set up, complete with a bottle of champagne chilling in ice.

“I didn’t know what you liked.” Mike explained, gesturing for Stan to sit on the cushions. “So I got a variety.” 

Stan sat and Mike moved next to him, close but not touching. He looked at the array of food, seeing veggies, dips, makings for sandwiches and other side dishes.

“This looks amazing.” Stan was a little overwhelmed. No one had ever done something like this for him. 

Mike looked relieved. “Good. Let’s dig in then, I’m starving.” Stan nodded, filling a plate with a little bit of everything. Soon, they had full plates and plastic cups of champagne and were talking easily, Stan asking Mike about his job and Mike asking about what Stan liked to do outside of work. Hours went by without either of them realizing it. The bottle was empty and they had moved closer, shoulders touching as they finally ate dessert. 

“Here, try this one.” Stan held up a bright purple truffle. “It’s lavender.” 

Mike opened his mouth and let Stan feed him. It was very similar to yesterday except that this time no one was going to bother them. Moving in, he popped the truffle in Mike’s mouth, staying close after he did.

“You’re a magician.” Mike said after he swallowed. “Which one do you want?”

Stan considered it then pointed to the lemon and basil white chocolate truffle. Mike fed it to him then asked, teasingly, “What if I wanted to taste that one?”

“That can be arranged.” Feeling bold, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Mike’s. It only took Mike a second to kiss him back, his hand finding the back of Stan’s head and winding in his curls. He’d expected the kiss to be tentative, like everything else about them had been so far, but clearly both were done waiting. It only took a minute for Stan to roll on top of Mike, deepening it. Mike tasted like chocolate and champagne and Stan knew that both would remind him of Mike from that day on. 

When they finally broke apart both smiled. “Was this date worth the wait?” Mike asked, still playing with Stan’s curls. 

“More than.” Stan bent back down to kiss Mike again, intent on making up for lost time. 

**Author's Note:**

> Some sweet stanlon for my lovely friend :D


End file.
